Reality. Every time I think I finally have a handle on it, the darn thing becomes more elusive.
About Christmas time my husband and I began to suspect that the "stomach bug" that I couldn't shake was of the nine month variety. This immediately led to a furtive trip to the drug store with a home test tucked snugly into the basket of last-minute gift wrapping needs etc.
While the box says something to the effect of "so easy a caveman could do it", I have to tell you that confirmation line is not always quite so blaze blue as depicted on the box. In my house, that leads to a really long 24 hour wait until you can wee on the second stick the following morning. Again, the lines look possible, but wait, maybe not. I'm just not sure.
So I say to the Mr. "You go to the store and get another kit and we'll do this again. Just to be sure." And why do I send him? Because I work in this town and the weekend cashier is a former student of mine and I guarantee that while I am in the aisle trying to find the box I need, I will run into at minimum six people I know. Questions will be asked.
You gotta love a man who is so freaked out about the prospect of a third pregnancy-to-newborn run in the house that he buys the economy pack of tests; 6 in a box!
Yes, we used them all. Yes, we stood shoulder to shoulder watching the line get more pronounced, and then we scrutinized the living hell out of it. "That's two lines right?.... I mean, they are intersecting in the middle and making a 'plus'.... Aren't they?....Can you do one more?"
Then we both looked at each other shell-shocked but grinning just the tiniest bit. Okay, we can do this thing. It'll be okay. We have to keep saying that out loud.
Because, let's be honest. I am closing in on 39. We have two daughters who are amazing and brilliantly growing and changing, but never, ever easy. We both work. Both jobs are crazy in their demands on time and both are important. And, in the very near future, we will be outnumbered. (A good friend of mine refers to this as "zone defense".)
There's a lot that is scary in making the jump from family of four to mini-van-required territory. As the person who typically gets us out the door in the morning for school, daycare etc. I really don't begin to know how I will get three children ready and not be at work in my skivvies with bed-head and yesterday's eyeliner in Tammy Faye streaks from this mornings stress-induced crying jag.
I worry. A lot. (This is just a given.) But currently I worry about my ability to make all of the balls stay in there every morning so that everyone lands where they need to at the right time of day.
The most common reaction to the announcement of this pregnancy has been, "So you're gonna stop working now, right?" This is so hard. Yes, if the financial world were different, it would probably make sense to take a few years off and get this brood settled and into school. But the reality is, that's not my life. And yes, I do feel guilty about the time I miss with them when they are at school, daycare etc. and I am at work. Being a mother isn't easy no matter what. Being a mom who works away from home and her kids, (because let's be honest, SAHM are working too and Damn hard!), comes with the perpetual balance of knowing that nobody can ever get your 100%.
And so I leave you with the reaction of my OB when I called in to request my first check-up. "You're shitting me! You went for another one! Didn't we talk about what caused this in the first place?.......You husband is HOPING for another girl? He does know they go through puberty right?"
Reality....Zone Defense....Worry.....Balance....
And then the first ultrasound, and hearing the heart beat for the first time. Instant blissful love. Tears and magic.
This will beokay great too.
About Christmas time my husband and I began to suspect that the "stomach bug" that I couldn't shake was of the nine month variety. This immediately led to a furtive trip to the drug store with a home test tucked snugly into the basket of last-minute gift wrapping needs etc.
While the box says something to the effect of "so easy a caveman could do it", I have to tell you that confirmation line is not always quite so blaze blue as depicted on the box. In my house, that leads to a really long 24 hour wait until you can wee on the second stick the following morning. Again, the lines look possible, but wait, maybe not. I'm just not sure.
So I say to the Mr. "You go to the store and get another kit and we'll do this again. Just to be sure." And why do I send him? Because I work in this town and the weekend cashier is a former student of mine and I guarantee that while I am in the aisle trying to find the box I need, I will run into at minimum six people I know. Questions will be asked.
You gotta love a man who is so freaked out about the prospect of a third pregnancy-to-newborn run in the house that he buys the economy pack of tests; 6 in a box!
Yes, we used them all. Yes, we stood shoulder to shoulder watching the line get more pronounced, and then we scrutinized the living hell out of it. "That's two lines right?.... I mean, they are intersecting in the middle and making a 'plus'.... Aren't they?....Can you do one more?"
Then we both looked at each other shell-shocked but grinning just the tiniest bit. Okay, we can do this thing. It'll be okay. We have to keep saying that out loud.
Because, let's be honest. I am closing in on 39. We have two daughters who are amazing and brilliantly growing and changing, but never, ever easy. We both work. Both jobs are crazy in their demands on time and both are important. And, in the very near future, we will be outnumbered. (A good friend of mine refers to this as "zone defense".)
There's a lot that is scary in making the jump from family of four to mini-van-required territory. As the person who typically gets us out the door in the morning for school, daycare etc. I really don't begin to know how I will get three children ready and not be at work in my skivvies with bed-head and yesterday's eyeliner in Tammy Faye streaks from this mornings stress-induced crying jag.
I worry. A lot. (This is just a given.) But currently I worry about my ability to make all of the balls stay in there every morning so that everyone lands where they need to at the right time of day.
The most common reaction to the announcement of this pregnancy has been, "So you're gonna stop working now, right?" This is so hard. Yes, if the financial world were different, it would probably make sense to take a few years off and get this brood settled and into school. But the reality is, that's not my life. And yes, I do feel guilty about the time I miss with them when they are at school, daycare etc. and I am at work. Being a mother isn't easy no matter what. Being a mom who works away from home and her kids, (because let's be honest, SAHM are working too and Damn hard!), comes with the perpetual balance of knowing that nobody can ever get your 100%.
And so I leave you with the reaction of my OB when I called in to request my first check-up. "You're shitting me! You went for another one! Didn't we talk about what caused this in the first place?.......You husband is HOPING for another girl? He does know they go through puberty right?"
Reality....Zone Defense....Worry.....Balance....
And then the first ultrasound, and hearing the heart beat for the first time. Instant blissful love. Tears and magic.
This will be
